Dragon's Vengeance
by Melting Angels
Summary: Hawke travels to the Bone Pit when Hubert's workers are once again gone astray. She had expected a fight, with whatever was there, but nothing could have prepared her for a High Dragon. (Rated T for use of bad language and description of wounds)


**Summary:**

Hawke travels to the Bone Pit when Hubert's workers are once again gone astray. She had expected a fight, with whatever was there, but nothing could have prepared her for a High Dragon.

 _Just a what-if. I am aware others may have covered this subject but I couldn't get the idea out of my head._

 **My Hawke is named Brienne, though I will stick to Hawke mostly, so you guys can picture your own Hawke in the story. I didn't go with the default female Hawke. You can see her appearance in the cover photo.**

She is a mage, and wearing the armour Hawke wears in the Destiny trailer.

 _Rated T for bad language and descriptive gore._

 **If you enjoyed this, and would like to see more, please leave a review.**

* * *

As the group approached the slope leading to the Bone Pit, the atmosphere was tense. This was the second time innocent Fereldans had been slaughtered in these cursed mines. Hawke was going to make sure nothing remained this time. So she led the group, made up of herself, Fenris, Aveline, and a strangely silent Varric. None of them spoke, each holding their weapons at the ready, bodies tense. Who knew what manner of beast awaited them?

As she walked down the slope, the blood stained sand crunching under her feet, Hawke was horrified to find the mangled body of a red-haired Fereldan elf, eyes glazed and glassy, as his intestines lay shredded on the ground around him, dried blood forming a pool under him.

"That merchant...if he had kept the people away as we warned, this would not have happened." Fenris spoke up.

"Bastard." Hawke muttered. "We'll have to talk with him when we get back."

Looking around, to check for unwanted company, Hawke knelt down, and laid her staff aside. Speaking a few words of condolences, she gently ran her hand down the elf's face, closing his eyes, so he could sleep in peace. Breathing heavily, she then picked up her staff, before rising to her feet and continuing down the path. As they went, more bodies littered the ground, each more defiled and torn than the last. Some were unrecognizable as human or elf.

Some had their limbs torn off. The Bone Pit seemed like a more apt name as the group travelled down the bloodied path. When they finally stepped onto the open, empty bed of sand, a hill holding a collection of ruins standing to their right, each of them split up, searching for any sign of what may have killed them.

Of course, they had their suspicions, after the influx of dragonlings and defeating a mature dragon the previous time the mines had been desecrated. Yet they hoped it was not more of the vicious beasts.

"Too quiet." Aveline commented, when they regrouped in the center of the circular plains.

"Whatever did this will come back." Fenris kept a tight grip on his blade. "We should wait."

"For how long? The beast- whatever it was, may have left for good!" Aveline frowned.

"We could wait a little while. If it doesn't show up today, we'll have to do some digging." Varric checked that Bianca was loaded.

"I agree with Fenris. And Varric's right. Waiting a while won't kill us. If we stay, we might even draw-" Hawke was cut off as a shrill shriek rang through the air. "-the beast here."

"That better not be what it sounds like." Varric held Bianca steady.

As the shrieks got closer, the group watched in a mixture of awe and horror, as a colossal dragon skimmed over the horizon, landing far too close to them for their liking. The beast was so strong, that its weight on the ground sent a loud boom echoing through the pit, reverberating off the cliff walls, the noise damn near deafening.

"Holy shit." Varric took a few steps back, aiming Bianca at the beast's face. "A High Dragon."

"That's-" Hawke also took a few steps back, readying herself. "Well...a...very large...dragon."

Seeing a High Dragon in the flesh...nothing could compare. Even the detailed diagrams in the books Hawke had read on Dragon Lore, could not have prepared her for the sight of the hulking monster. Its wingspan near spread the width of the pit, casting an ominous shadow over the group. Lining the beasts flesh were glimmering purple scales, some scuffed and chipped from years of battles, scars littering its huge body, some so wide that the scales had been pushed back on either side. Colossal horns, three each side, glimmered like polished marble in the sunlight, casting reflections into the dragons vibrant green eyes.

"I-" Hawke was rendered speechless, before she saw the paler scales down its throat begin to glow a bright white. "Run!"

Each of them leapt in different directions, rolling out of the way as a torrent of snow-white fire erupted from the beast's mouth, the guttural roar that accompanied it being so deep, it seemed as if it had come from the very pits of the creature's stomach.

"Plan, Hawke?" Varric shouted over the noise, each of them running, changing directions as the path of the flame followed them, as the beasts head turned.

"Varric, stay back, you could probably get a good angle from behind that rock." Hawke pointed to a ruined pillar to her right. "I'll use minor attacks to distract it."

Ducking out of the way of a sizeable fireball, Hawke grimaced as the heat grazed her face, leaving a jagged burn on her left cheekbone.

"Maker, that stings." Hawke wiped the blood away, gritting her teeth when the bits of fabric in her armour caught the raw flesh. "Aveline, Fenris, go around, up the ruins, and back down. Strike at it from behind. As soon as Varric and I have its attention, run!"

Fenris and Aveline looked at each other and nodded, before ducking behind another semi-crumbled pillar, ready to make their way up to the ruins. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Hawke then stepped into the dragon's line of sight. Immediately, it focused on her, eyes rotating gruesomely, and fixating on the mage.

"You want another meal?" Hawke shouted at the beast, staff at the ready. "Here I am!"

Running towards the dragon, she fired a powerful blast of lightning, striking the beast in its frontal right leg, immediately ducking as it spat fire her way, firing another quick blast of bolts at the same leg, causing the beast to stumble, before righting itself. Out of the corner of her eye, Hawke could see arrows flying at the dragon, often bouncing off the scales, but with enough power to knock the pieces off.

Rolling, ducking, and dodging, Hawke fired bolts of fire and lightning alike at the dragon, sometimes barely escaping the reach of its claws, to which pieces of burnt flesh had fused. Varric kept on firing, having to move closer as the beast swerved and fought.

Aveline and Fenris finally slid down the other side of the ruin-topped cliff, and gave each other nods of affirmation, before charging the dragon from behind. Hawke went to back away, should the creature lash out when the two warriors launched themselves at it, but the dragon's eyes suddenly narrowed. Swallowing to steady her nerves, Hawke stepped closer, and fired a strong blast of frost at the serpent, rendering its left eye useless. The beast howled, and its clawed right foot swiped through the air. Hawke was sent flying backwards by the sheer force, staff knocked from her grip as she was violently cast back through the air.

All the breath had been knocked out of her, so when she finally crumpled to the floor, rolling painfully slow until she stopped, Hawke couldn't find the strength to get up. All her energy had been sapped from her, overwhelmed by the pain coursing through her body. The pain came in waves, each one stronger and more vicious than the last.

"Hawke!" Varric sounded horrified, and immediately ran to his friends side, dodging a stream of bright flame.

Forced to keep the dragon's attention off of Hawke, Fenris let out a stream of curses, his anger beginning to take over as he saw the mage lying helplessly on the ground.

* * *

Securing Bianca onto his back, Varric got his hands under Hawke's arms, using the time Aveline and Fenris were buying to drag Hawke behind a ruined wall for cover. The moment they were safe behind the makeshift shelter, he laid the mage's arms down, making sure she lay comfortably on her back. As he took in his friend's wounds, Varric felt all the blood drain from his face.

Sharper than diamonds, the dragon's claws had torn off Hawke's armour, snapping the leather belts which held the chestplate together. Five deep, diagonal wounds covered her body, from the creature's wide reach. One lay across her collarbone, the next lying barely an inch lower. Dangerously close to her heart was another. The last stretched over where her bottom ribs would be. The slashes were gruesome, the last two deep enough to show the sinewy muscle and rib bone underneath, the slight slivers of white glimmering amongst the blood that leaked steadily from the wounds. A grisly burn mark on the right side of her face was framed by a myriad of deep purple bruises. Her usually bright, vibrant green eyes were shut, as she remained in darkness.

"Andraste's tits, Hawke! Why did you do something so stupid?" Varric tried covering the deepest wounds with his hands, grimacing when he felt it seep through his fingers.

In the near distance, he could hear that, luckily, the party's two strong, unrelenting warriors, were holding their own against the serpent. Likely fueled by a growing anger.

"Hang in there, Hawke. I'm not having you die on me." Varric spoke, although he knew she would not hear him.

A moment in silence, save for the sounds of battle, passed, before Hawke began to stir. Varric made sure he would be in her line of sight. Her eyes slowly opened, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. Almost immediately, her skin grew even paler, a testament to the pain she was in.

"Varric?" Hawke's voice was hoarse.

"I'm here. How you holding up?" Varric made sure to keep a smile on his face. Keeping Hawke calm and awake was extremely important.

"I've...felt better." Hawke coughed weakly, blood speckling her lips. "Shit."

"Keep down. You can't be moving around yet."

"Why-" Hawke paused, before her eyes widened. "Fenris. Is he..."

"He's fine. Maybe extremely pissed off at our oversized lizard friend here, but he's fine."

"Aveline?"

"If looks could kill, that dragon would be dead already."

"We can't...stay behind here. We've got to...help them."

"No offense Hawke, but you're not helping anyone, the state you're in."

"I can't let them...fight it by themselves."

"The broody elf will kill me if I let you even try and stand up."

"I won't let him. Varric...help me up."

"No."

"Fine. I'll...do it...myself."

As a blast of fire skimmed narrowly over the wall, Varric saw Hawke leaning on her elbows as she strained to push herself upwards. The mage made it halfway into a sitting position, but soon fell backwards, Varric having to support her so she wouldn't fall too harshly.

"I can help."

"How? You're looking as bad as the dead miners."

Hawke forced herself onto her side, coughing again as blood dripped onto the already soaked sands. Pulling herself up by the wall, the stubborn woman found herself, albeit extremely wobbly, on her feet, Varric at her side should she fall.

"What are you-" Varric paused, as Hawke dipped her left hand in the blood that spilled from her wounds. "No, Hawke. Don't do it."

Ignoring the dwarf's concern, Hawke began to trace a series of runes onto her right bicep, hands trembling as she fought simply to hold on to consciousness. Varric recognized those runes. He had seen Hawke use them on the Arishok...

Makers breath.

* * *

Hawke struggled into the dragon's view, putting the shouts and curses from her companions to the back of her mind. What she was about to do was vile, a vulgar spell, yet she knew she had to use it. Fenris and Aveline could not fight the dragon forever, and if they attempted to run, they'd be turning their backs, and they'd all die in this forsaken pit.

The runes on Hawke's bicep began to glow red, her eyes soon mimicking the same eerie colour, so intense it seemed as if smoke were spilling forth from her eyes. The mage could feel she was running out of time, but focused solely on the dragon. Thrusting out her left hand, Hawke summoned a giant, ghostly hand, emerging from a fiery portal on the left of the dragon's neck. With another forceful gesture of her right hand, another arm reached forth from the shadows.

Raising her trembling arms, Hawke forced herself to stay awake, moving her arms to control their ghostly counterparts. The hands took hold of the dragon's neck, and, to the background noise of Fenris practically screaming at Hawke to stop, to move, the mage twisted her hands, and snapped the beasts neck.

The gruesome sound echoed throughout the mines, undoubtedly audible for some distance around. The minute the beast collapsed to the floor, Hawke cast away the bloodied hands.

Her entire body now shook, and she could hold onto consciousness no longer. Knowing the dragon had been felled, the mage gave in to the darkness that had been creeping in at the corners of her vision.

The last thing Hawke saw before the darkness to her, was Fenris, kneeling in front of her, and begging her to stay awake.

* * *

The moment Hawke had stepped out from behind the wall, Fenris had felt his body begin to shake from sheer anger. Her torso was damn near torn to shreds, yet she was still being as reckless and stubborn as ever. He wanted to stop her, run over, haul her back behind cover, but the dragon stood between them, smoke billowing forth from its nostrils as it prepared itself to strike.

Even as he hacked at the dragon's body, Fenris could barely take his eyes away from Hawke. He was going at the beast with all his strength, but the damn thing just wouldn't die. He could feel the strain in his muscles, the beginning of exhaustion, and one look at a blood-covered Aveline told him they were running out of time.

Then Hawke...

Fenris shouted her name as he saw her tracing all too familiar runes onto her bicep, fingers stained with coppery red blood. He knew what she was going to do, and he hated it. Why couldn't she have just stayed down?

That's what the right thing was. But that wasn't Hawke.

Fenris watched in a mixture of horror and disturbed awe, as two giant, ghostly hands reached out of the fade itself, flames licking at the ethereal limbs. The powerful hands clasped the dragons neck, and as they twisted, Fenris almost had to cover his ears, as the loud snap of the dragon's neck breaking echoed throughout the pit.

Pulled back to his senses, Fenris pulled Aveline out of the way, both warriors dashing backwards as the beast finally collapsed on the ground, neck twisted, scaled body beaten and slashed into a bloody pulp. The moment it touched the ground, Fenris sheathed his sword, and immediately began running across the sands towards Hawke, an equally stunned Aveline not far behind.

Within seconds, Fenris was kneeling at Hawke's side, Varric quietly stepping back, to give the two some room. Fenris looked over Hawke's wounds, and felt his fury begin to build anew. It wasn't until he noticed Hawke's eyes opening, that it stopped, and began to fade. The sight of her bright eyes was enough, to know she was still with them.

"Why did you do that?" Fenris moved Hawke into his arms. "You weren't in any condition to fight."

Hawke opened her mouth, as if to reply, but she could only cough, arching her back slightly as blood began to drip down her chin. The moment the terrifying episode was over, her eyes closed, as she faded from consciousness once more.

"We need to get her out of here." Varric began searching his pockets and pouches for any supplies that had survived the fight.

"In her state, carrying her back could do more harm." Aveline pointed out, before her voice tailed off. "Yet we...have no choice."

"I've got some bandages. We tie the wounds up tight, it buys us more time to get Hawke to Blondie." Varric handed the bandages to Fenris, and held Hawke up, to make tending to her injuries a little easier.

"Anders is on the other side of Kirkwall! It's too far." Aveline finally sheathed her sword. "I will go ahead now, and bring him to Hawke's mansion."

"Good idea. Go, as fast as you can." Fenris knew they should remove the wounded mage's tunic, cut it off, so it wouldn't stick to the wounds, but with the blood she was losing, she didn't have that luxury.

As he finally tied a knot, securing Hawke's upper body in a swathe of gauze, Fenris gritted his teeth, and prayed to whichever forsaken creature lay in the sky, that Hawke would make it back home.

* * *

Anders had been having a peaceful day. There had been no major injuries, only a few bruises and cuts from street-side scuffles. Several of the patrons who visited his clinic talked for seemingly hours. The mage was grateful for a day of rest, and since it was half over, hoped it would remain that way. Yet, he knew, the moment a blood-stained and gore-covered Aveline burst into the clinic, red-faced and panting, that his peace had been shattered.

Politely asking the waiting patients to give them some privacy, Anders smiled as Aveline walked up. The two still argued from time to time, but there was no longer any hostility.

"Aveline. Good to see you." Anders nodded.

"No time for pleasantries." Aveline began dragging the poor man out of his clinic.

"Whatever is the matter?" Anders was confused, and concerned.

"Its Hawke." Aveline answered bluntly.

One look at the tears threatening to spill from the warrior's eyes, told Anders that this was not a few bruises from a fight against thugs.

Something was terribly wrong.

* * *

As Fenris had run through High town, its inhabitants had been forced to duck out of the way for fear of their lives. The elf moved so fast that many were taken aback at the sight, luckily too distracted by the strange elf to notice the dying Champion in his arms. Fenris did not appreciate the way they looked at him, but as he looked at Hawke's limp, pale body in his arms, he couldn't bring himself to care. Many paces behind the warrior, Varric struggled to keep up with Fenris, having neither the elf's height or his strength, but did not utter even one word of complaint. He'd rest later, when he knew if...

No. There were no ifs. Varric told himself over and over, as they ran, that Hawke WOULD be alright. That she WOULD make it out of this. The woman was stubborn at the best of times. He could not afford to doubt his friend now.

Fenris nearly kicked the door off its hinged as he barged into Hawke's mansion, noting that Bodahn and Sandal stood at the stairs leading to Hawke's room, anxiously awaiting their return. The two dwarves moved out of the way as Fenris charged up the steps, before skidding to a halt as he entered the mage's room.

Standing on either side of Hawke's bed, were Aveline, and Anders. On the champions bedside cabinet lay an array of potions, elixirs, and crisp, white bandages.

"Makers breath..." Anders paled at the sight of Hawke, as Fenris laid her down with as much care as he could, making sure her head rested comfortably on the soft pillows.

"You will help her?" Fenris looked over to Anders.

"Of course. Hawke is one of the few friends I have. I'll do all I can, Fenris." Anders replied, before placing his staff against the wall, and taking off his fur-lined outer coat.

He _would_ save Hawke.

She couldn't die like this.


End file.
